Mercenary Black Mamba

His hands had moved relentlessly. Zaitun's fat cheeks quivered. That guy was like the devil. No, he was the devil. Most DGSE strategic agents were stupid and rough, but that guy was on a different tier. He'd gone through the entire international agent list, but there wasn't anyone similar. He became much more nervous. His throat would break with a single mistake.

"How long do we have until the mission point?"

Just listening to his voice was scary.

"15 kilometers left, sir."

"Let's go."

"Yes, sir!"

Zaitun's tone had since changed.

Tutututu—

Two helicopters appeared above the road, where the two bikes moved. The helicopters had turned on their night lights and were flying south.

Black Mamba increased his sight. It had a flat canopy and a double intake system that poked out of its front like a dragonfly's eyes. It was an initial Mi-24A Hind. The initial Hind was made haphazardly to work as both an attack and a transfer system. A pilot, co-pilot, weapons controller, and up to eight armed personnel could board the cabin.

"Hoo, that's a lot of money." Black Mamba laughed as he stared into the sky.

The Mi-24A was made with the American Huey in mind. The 12.7 millimeters heavy machine gun was all the firepower it had. The one that was heading south had a 30 millimeters twin-barrel machine gun and a 122 millimeters rocket pod. The Soviets had sold them their antiques and ripped off the remodeling fees. It was the same rip-off that the Yankees had done to Korea.

The carrier helicopter following the Hind helicopter was a Huey UH-1. It could carry up to 18 people in a stretch. The only antique on that plane was a machine gun that had appeared in the Vietnam War.

The Hind and Huey's appearances meant that they were attempting to transport all the special forces to the targeted region. Ironically, an American helicopter was operating well within Syria, a communist country.

"Those Yankee b*stards are selling everything through their a**holes."

Despite the Cold War, the American weapon traders were still selling weapons in the west and east. He suddenly thought of Korea, which had its weapons system under the U.S.' control.

France thought of Korea as the U.S.' dumpster for unnecessary weapons. Bonipas had once criticized that Korea's system of acquiring weapons was a result of lobbying and bribery in the U.S.

France complained that they had attempted to get rid of the technology and weapons while it was still in the package because of the military mafia. There was no permanent friend or foe in the international society. There wasn't a guarantee that the U.S. would be in their blood pact forever. France warned that if a country didn't improve its own development system, it would shed bloody tears one day.

Black Mamba smiled bitterly. France described it as the military mafia, but that was an insult to its military powers for clinging on to the U.S.' pants sleeves due to the lack of its own traditional system.

"Zaitun, where's the helicopter headed for?"

"Qarah Bash is four kilometers ahead."

The Hind launched a rocket even before Zaitun could finish talking. A red light streaked across the night sky. It was in the direction of Qarah Bash.

Boom—

A loud explosion rang. The Soviet 122 millimeters rocket power was astronomical. Its area of impact was almost the size of a handball arena.

The Hind spun once in the air before hovering 300 meters above the ground. It was entering an attack stance. Streams of fire were released.

Woosh—

Woosh—

Woosh—

Launching sounds similar to that of the downpour of rainy seasons played. Black-red fireworks continuously rose from the ground.

If ground forces failed to maintain a land-to-air offensive, it became food for helicopters. There were more instances where helicopters inflicted more damage than fighter planes. That was because it could hit targets accurately while hovering at low heights.

The Huey released a round of machine guns before turning to lower its altitude. It was about to land.

Babababa—

The Hind's 30 millimeters machine gun and heavy machine gun spewed fire at the same time, providing cover for the Huey.

Strands of fire sprouted from the ground. The tracer ammunition traveled through the black sky.

Boom—

Boom—

The high-speed proximity fuze lit the sky grandly. The Muslim Brotherhood had high-quality weapons too.

Both sides were using either Soviet or American weapons. That was why there were conspiracy theories about the U.S. and the Soviet Union constantly encouraging wars to sell their weapons.

"They're really going at it."

There wasn't anything more exciting than fire and fight scenes. Of course, being involved would've been frustrating, but being an onlooker was fun.

Black Mamba stopped his bike and entered viewing mode. He was barely two kilometers away from the war. He could see the situation clearly. Zaitun kept rushing, but Black Mamba ignored him.

"Damn, it's over."

The stream of fire from the ground and the Hind's flight route had overlapped. The Hind showed an impressive maneuver at that very moment. It flipped its entire body and fell on a steep degree that was like a ski course. Its movements were fast that it seemed as though it had instantly teleported. The members on board the cabin would have created a commotion, but the piloting had been spectacular.

Boom—

The air missile exploded right next to the Hind's tail rotor. The Hind swayed but soon regained its balance. Like its nickname, the air tank, it had a strong exterior.

The angered Hind started firing rockets in a row.

Boom—

Boom—

Boom—

The ground shook from the explosions. On the ground, an ammunition storage room or a fuel tank exploded. He couldn't tell the situation on the ground, but those were impressive attacks.

What if that guy attacked him?

If the helicopter released rockets and chain guns from the sky, he would be powerless. Like a grasshopper in a field, he would probably jump around before being torn to pieces.

Could he surpass the helicopter with his Dragunov?

It was a sudden curiosity.

I should figure out the countermeasures of a helicopter.

Being prepared raised no problems. That day's observations later became a great help to the Congo War. After all, he was able to withstand an American helicopter's formation attack.

Black Mamba suddenly took out his Gorgon. The Hind's motions, which accelerated after it tilted diagonally, remained in his head like a film.

Would it be possible since it's faster than following a straight course?

Woosh—

The tip of his whip showed a strange movement. The original method had used curves. Along with his enhanced physicals, Black Mamba had often used it as a spear to stab, but such movements were extremely limited.

Woosh—

Woosh—

Woosh—

The arcs that his whip drew gradually became smaller. The whip's arc slowly approached the arc of a cycloid curve.

Voom—

The air vibrations changed. The whip flew past his imaginary target as though it had teleported.

Aha! This is it.

Layers of circular curves were raised in the air. Zaitun's gaze became more intense over time, as though he was looking at a madman.

Flick—

The Gorgon had shivered throughout before the entire layer of circles disappeared. The Hind and Huey had also disappeared. Black Mamba smiled in satisfaction after placing the Gorgon back into its case. It was the birth of the cycloid technique.

"They really fought to their best of abilities. Let's go!"

He left the battleground behind him and pulled on the throttle. The old bike didn't exceed 50 kilometers per hour, no matter how much he had pulled on the throttle. He began to miss his snakehead. It exceeded over 100 kilometers per hour with a five seconds lap time. Zaitun didn't look relaxed at all. It was no longer the timid face that he had shown before the Mukhabarat.

"It's the gate, sir!" Zaitun shouted from up ahead.

Like before, there was a barricade. A lantern light was turning about in a circular motion.

"I'm going ahead."

The speedometer couldn't exceed 60 kilometers, even at its fastest speed.

Putatataa—

The bike trembled as though it was about to break down. For Black Mamba, who used to ride on bikes that ran 300 kilometers per hour, it was something to be frustrated about.

At 200 meters, Black Mamba threw a grenade.

Woosh—

The grenade flew straight through the air and sneaked into the guard post's window.

Boom—

It was an attack that no one had anticipated. Red flames escaped out of the post's windows and entrance. In a single explosion, the person who had sent the stop signal before the post and the two Mukhabarat who were inside died.

Woosh—

Another grenade flew in. It was a confirmation kill.

Boom—

The burning post shattered into pieces.

Bang bang bang—

The Gorgon broke the barricade. The shattered wooden blockade was scattered.

Putatata—

The old bike didn't spare a second and rushed by.

Zaitun, who'd been following him from the rear, nearly fell off his bike. Unstoppable was the right word for that b*stard. He'd definitely thrown a grenade, but how did it land 200 meters ahead?

Swinging a whip from a running bike to break through a barricade wasn't something that could be seen in Hollywood movies, either. Zaitun's face crumpled.

Black Mamba examined his surrounding terrains even while driving. Lacking battleground data would bring about greater damage. Highway 217 had been swept away like the cloister of the lowlands. It was a long, deep U-shaped terrain that looked as though an iceberg had swept past.

"I should avoid the road. If they shove in a large-scale force, I'll become a cornered rat."

While analyzing the terrain, Zaitun abandoned the main road and entered a side road. The old bike struggled to climb the dense forested hill. The top wasn't that far. They arrived at its peak in 10 minutes. It was approximately 650 meters above ground.

Zaitun parked the bike at the top.

"Huh, what's that b*stard doing?"

Bang—

Black Mamba, who had followed after him, kicked his bike. As a result, Zaitun and his bike rolled down.

"What are you doing?" Zaitun shouted.

Black Mamba went after Zaitun, grabbed him by his collar, and shook him.

"Zaitun, what is your identity?"

He looked on with burning glares.

"Identity, what are you talking about?"

"That building in the forest on the right is the ANO's soldier training ground—Ruman—isn't it?"

"What! You can see that?"

Zaitun looked surprised to the point that he could pass out. It was a night without moonlight and just stars. There was no way that a building two kilometers outside the valley could be seen. As he'd thought, that guy was a monster.

"Hmph, why would you stop the bike at a skyline, if not on purpose? You couldn't have known the battlefield tactics that even a private knows. What is your identity?"

Bloodlust exuded out of him. Zaitun's heart sank when he faced Black Mamba's burning glares. The extreme torture training that he had received in Bethesda wasn't working.

"I...I am a local informant, Zaitun. It was a mistake. I'm not an agent specially trained to be an informant," Zaitun answered with a clear voice even when he was trembling.

Black Mamba's heart wavered. Local slippers were often given simple missions or a small-scale target with less care. Many agents weren't specially trained.

However, he had too many suspicions of the guy to trust him. Black Mamba could read the pulse, muscle movements, and brain waves of other people. Despite several surprising situations, the b*stard didn't waver. He had pretended to be surprised and scared instead.

Zaitun could fool a ghost but not him. The problem was whether he could suspect Zaitun just for that. There were various kinds of people amongst the 5,000,000,000 people on earth. Could that be his natural reaction?

Shouldn't there be a reason behind the b*stard's late appearance and his insistence on walking?

"Ugh!"

Black Mamba groaned while contemplating to trust or kill the guy. His left side prickled. His dense muscles soon tightened, which stopped the sharp object from piercing his side any further. The pain spread immediately afterward.

Damn, it's poison.

He grabbed Zaitun's hand, which had reflexively stabbed his side. Black Mamba's hands had a vice-like grip that could bend iron.

Crack—

"Kugh!"

A suppressed scream and the sound of cracking bones could be heard at the same time. A human's hand had 14 finger bones and five palm bones. The 19 bones had become one mushed ball. An object the size of his palm dropped to the ground.

Zaitun wasn't easy either. He overcame the shocking level of damage and pulled out a gun with his injured hand. It was a surprisingly fast reflex. His white sclera flashed.

Scnk—

A small sound pulsed.

"Die, you monster!"

Zaitun's eyes widened like a lobster's as he reached out with his hand. There was no Glock or a wrist.

What?

His brain had failed to grasp the situation. Just then, an extremely untamable pain rushed over him.

"Kuuuuh~"

Crack—

Black Mamba stabbed Zaitun on the pressure point of his neck.

"Kuhuhkuh!"

A strange quivering sound resonated. Zaitun withstood the impact that was enough to break his neck. The tendons and blood vessels of his neck swelled up as though it would tear away at his skin. His entire upper body trembled as though he had been electrocuted by high voltage electricity. In military terms, he had lost all battle capacity. Their exchange ended in the blink of an eye.

Those idiots have gone in over their heads again.

Black Mamba's face crumpled. A guide attacking a consultant was an unimaginable case.

His back muscle twisted on its own. It was a strong poison. Although he had been injected with traces of the poison, his side was already immobilized. Soon, the paralysis spread to both of his upper sides.

He recalled the time when he had been poisoned by that Russky ba*stard in the Sahel. He'd suffered so much that he swore to rip the b*stard's limbs apart.

He used his dimensional sight and internal sight to examine his internal body. There was an outer injury below his twelfth rib, called the floating rib. The injury looked like he was stabbed by a knife with two teeth on its sides. A black cloud-like substance was penetrating his body through the injury.

"Ommani banmehom om!"

He raised his resonance. The resonance that began from his lower belly started shaking his whole body.

Voom—

His body shook. The poison, which couldn't penetrate any further due to the resonance, twirled in its place.

Shhh—

His spine felt coolish. The small particles that illuminated from his spine began to spread. It was a counteragent that he had named, shining. His veins absorbed shining like an ink's smear.

Shining, which had responded to his resonance, spread to his blood like flying pollen. A huge amount of oxygen was absorbed, and his blood flow rapidly increased. A cooling feeling as though he'd just eaten mint, spread from his spine to the rest of his limbs.

His muscle spasms stopped. The poison, which had been trapped in his side, was absorbed into the particles. He pulled out his Kukri and slit the injury into a cross. Black blood flowed out.